


Where the Story Ends

by OpiumPoppy



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-07
Updated: 2014-02-07
Packaged: 2018-01-11 12:34:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1173128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpiumPoppy/pseuds/OpiumPoppy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Shire is gone and it's all his fault. Bilbo Baggins has nothing left in the world but nightmares, a tiny, orphaned hobbit child and the hope that the dwarrows he left in Erebor will be willing to take in a homeless burglar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where the Story Ends

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fill for a deliciously detailed prompt from The Hobbit Kink Meme, in short: BoFA, everyone lives. Bilbo (accompanied by Gandlaf) returns to the Shire only to discover that Azog, furious at being thwarted from obtaining Thorin's head has sent an army of orcs to burn the place to the ground. The only surviver is a tiny Frodo. Hobbits are now an endangered species and the river runs red with blood. Bilbo can't stay there so he travels to Erebor hoping they have space for two more.
> 
> Prompt is posted in full at the bottom.
> 
> Title from the Fray's song of the same name.

Kili nudged his brother who looked up from his plate long enough to mouth 'I know'. Kili glanced up and down the table only to find he was the last one to notice. Everyone's faces were grim as they regarded their burglar who was entirely oblivious in a way that happened far too often since he'd returned to the Company.

Bilbo was staring intently into his goblet.

"Has someone given the halfling wine, again?" Thorin muttered angrily from his place at the head of the table, loudly enough that Bilbo should have heard it. They'd learned from experience that Bilbo wouldn't hear anything whilst in such a state.

All 13 of the dwarrows had learnt the hard way what a broken hobbit looked like the past few months. Gandalf had brought him home to the mountain he'd helped win on the heels of another Durin's day. He'd entered Erebor baring a bundle of cloth before him on horseback which had turned out to be their burglar cradling an even smaller and infinitely precious bundle. A hobbit child. Seven full moons had bathed the mountainside since Bilbo had returned and Frodo (the child's name, so Gandalf had told them) still hadn't left the infirmary.

It had been Dwalin, doing his rounds of the guards, who'd met them at the gate amidst the small but lively new year celebrations. His eyes smiled though he maintained his usual stern visage before his subordinates.

"Our burglar! Back inside a year!" he stopped at the lack of acknowledgement, one does not greet a friend by letting them speak to the top of their head. Still, Bilbo did not look up from his blankets or the package he carried within them.

Gandalf shook his head and Dwalin followed the wizard as he lead the way to the infirmary, knowing the way despite having never seen it in that strange way unique to the Grey Pilgrim. He left them with Oin and stood guard outside the door, trying to protect the occupants in the only way he knew.

They kept time in landmarks. It had been a year since the dragon was slain when the halfling returned with his cousin. Two more months had passed before Ori had witnessed Frodo's first smile since arriving. Another month after that and Bilbo had had his first panic attack - spilt wine reminded him of the Brandywine River, running red and black with blood and ash.

Another month after that and Frodo had first spoken, to ask after his cousin Bilbo who was in another part of the castle retching. One of the dwarrows had remembered Bilbo's love of flowers and left them in his room. Bilbo hadn't slept for days, kept awake by the memory of a tiny Samwise laying facedown in his herb garden. A look at the young face and you could be forgiven for thinking him merely asleep but it was the orc sword, dirty and taller than the boy had stood in life, spilling his blood into the rosemary that haunted Bilbo's thoughts.

Only two weeks ago saw Gimli escaping the watch of his mother to follow his father and beginning the friendship which had truly set Frodo on the road to recovery. He still screamed at night but the haunted look left his eyes when his favourite dwarf tangled beads into his hair, trying to plait the dark, wispy hobbit curls.

But where Frodo was recovering Bilbo did the opposite. Frodo's landmarks were of happy tidings, first smile, first laugh, first question, first night without awakening. Bombur had baked a cake the first time Frodo had gone a whole two nights in a row without a nightmare.

No such cake had been baked for Bilbo because despite everyone's best efforts Bilbo's landmarks painted a steady decline.

First panic attack, first accidental injury done to himself, first injury inflicted on healer, first exhaustion induced fainting, first deliberate self-injury, first panic attack in front of Frodo.

The panic attacks worried them the most, the self harm only ever followed an attack and the attacks grew in frequency. Where only wine set him off at first ("Good job we prefer ale under the mountain, eh laddie!" Bofur had joked) now they had to be careful to pour the drinks before they brought the hobbit to dine for merely the sound of running water would cause stuttered breath. They'd removed every trace of red from his rooms when Bilbo had ripped out six of his fingernails attempting to tear a tapestry from the wall which had happily displayed its autumn scene for four months before causing offence.

Thorin still feels guilty four months hence, he'd had it commissioned when Bilbo had returned, it's entirely unique (for what Dwarf would want a nature scene when they could have a forge or a mountain?) and it makes a beautiful fire, throwing out colourful sparks to match the minerals used to dye the threads when the King under the Mountain throws it into his fireplace.

Fire is another thing Bilbo is kept clear of, his room heaped in rugs and blankets (but nothing red or crochet), to keep him warm because Gandalf said most of the Shire had been burnt to the ground and no one wants to test Bilbo's fragile mental state. His eyes permanently dilated to account for the the gloom only feebly fended off by the glowing fungi miners use in new caves, untested for flammable gas.

He sleeps in the rooms kept for a royal consort, partly because Thorin insisted but also because they are the closest he can be to the infirmary without his screams being heard by Frodo. No one mentions that the heart of the mountain is far away from what could become a temptation to one in such despair. Nevertheless, it has been quietly ensured that Bilbo hasn't seen a window since setting foot in Erebor.

It takes more than a hour before Bilbo looks away from the glass of water and begins to eat as though nothing unusual had happened, and all present breathe a sigh of relief. Bifur wonders if Bilbo notices the little wrong things, being accustomed himself to not always being present. Doesn't he remember, for instance, that his first bite was warm? Bifur's food is certainly as cold as stone now and Bilbo's must be similarly faring.

When Bilbo ghosts out of the room it's Bofur who follows to make sure he doesn't run into trouble.

"So even still water is a problem, now?" Balin states rhetorically.

No one answers.

When Fili and Kili take Gimli with them to visit Frodo who sits up eagerly in his sick bed they are asked the same question they hear every time, "How's Bilbo?"

"Just fine, little bunny!" Frodo smiles at the reminder of the quest which are just fairy stories to his young ears.

"He came to see me last night, it woke me up."

Gimli clambered onto the bed to play with Frodo's hair whilst the brothers traded meaningful glances, they'd thought Bilbo had forgotten Frodo's presence, at least making it easy to keep Bilbo's deteriorating condition from the boy.

"What did you say?"

"I didn't say anything," Frodo was clearly proud of himself "I stayed really quiet and still just like Bilbo said I should be when we camped in mountains!"

Frodo's smile faded, "He just apologised over and over then asked me what my parents would think. He called me his 'poor dear boy' and then the sheets rustled like he stroked them but I didn't feel anything. He left before breakfast and he never said 'Well done' for being quiet!"

After Fili and Kili had assured the petulant child that he was a 'very very very, extraordinarily good boy' and 'quieter than a mouse walking on cotton wool' they left the the boys unsure of how to react. They'd reached another landmark, Frodo had mentioned his parents without so much as flinching but was Bilbo improving?

If Fili had been asked yesterday he would have sworn the burglar didn't even remember the child existed, nevermind that he was in the vicinity.

It was yesterday when the healer had informed them that Frodo had received all the help they could offer.

"But he has yet to rise from bed." The healer inclined his head, "Your majesty, every physical ill has repaired, we can find no cause of his paralysis."

The Company didn't take long to accept the information, they'd all known on some level that Frodo hadn't fully recovered his ordeal, no matter how they wished otherwise. They spent the rest of the meal chatting around Bilbo, in one of his trances, about where and when to move Frodo, should they make some sort of wheeled chair, how then to get around the issue of stairs?

No one had thought Bilbo could understand. Now they know he had. Did he hear when they discussed him? Mostly they didn't but the small things could hurt. Did he feel useless when they made arrangements to move the candles? Did he feel guilty that no-one could have a second drink at dinner? Did he hate himself for causing his friends pain?

Fili footsteps grew heavier as they sought out his uncle. They had to tell the King Under the Mountain that his burglar had spent the night pleading forgiveness for his cousins disability.

They had to tell Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror that Bilbo Baggins, no longer of the Shire had spoken for the first time in seven moons to apologise for the actions of the Pale Orc.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt:
> 
> Bilbo and Gandalf finally make it back to the Shire after the Battle (where everyone lived of course)to find it is no more. After being denied Thorin's head by the hobbit-scum, Azog sent a small army to the Shire, and they burnt it to the ground. Every man, woman, and child was killed. Every house, home, and smial was burnt to the ground or destroyed beyond use. The fields are ash, the livestock are slaughtered, and the river runs red. The only hobbits left are the few in Bree and our ring-bearer. Bilbo breaks down. He can do nothing but cry and scream and damn himself for leaving. He knows he couldn't have saved them, but at least he could have died with them. Gandalf feels even worse, because he knows he could have saved them they search and scour Hobbiton, Tookborough, and Buckland for any sign of life. The only thing they find with a pulse is little Frodo, and he is injured so badly he can barely move, and everyone he ever knew besides Bilbo is gone. Bilbo can't stay. He knows that as soon as Frodo can move they are leaving. He thinks Rivendel would take them in, but they would be surrounded by strangers. Erebor perhaps? He and Thorin parted with kindness, but would he take him into a Dwarven kingdom? Him and his nephew?Yeah, so, feel free to make me cry. Can totally be Bagginshield. Or Boffins. I'm not picky.
> 
> Con crit would be lovely, thanks.


End file.
